


Embroidery Club

by Rowan12628



Category: Trials and Trebuchets (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Anyway uhhh be gay do crime folks, Once again it is 1am, just a lot of thoughts, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:36:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27886894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowan12628/pseuds/Rowan12628
Summary: Mira's thoughts after quitting the Embroidery Club.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Embroidery Club

**Author's Note:**

> This essentially a vent fic about my own insecurities with money, fear of failure, love of sewing, feelings about friends, anxieties about making people gifts, and perfectionism, which I have projected onto Mira!
> 
> Sorry, Mira!

Quitting the embroidery club was _hard_.

Mira hated quitting at anything. She never did it. She would stick at something until it was complete, otherwise what was the point of starting at all?

If she was writing music and the melody wasn't quite right, she would work on it until it sounded beautiful.  
If she was having trouble casting a spell, she would practice until it worked.  
If an infuriating 3rd year refused to look at her application for a golem party, she would pester him until he granted it.

Her determination was one of the things she prided herself on. It was how she was able to convince her parents to let her go to school for music.  
Sure, they were probably not-so-secretly hoping she'd find a passion for literally anything else, but she was so dead-set that they had to agree.

Determination oftentimes was a gateway for perfectionism, which wasn't always a bad thing.  
But when it came to admitting failure, it could lead to crying on a bed in a medical tent (not technically a tent, but whatever) because you broke a bunch of ribs in a duel; or feeling like you're about to die while desperately explaining that you can't keep risking your life for a quest when you don't even really know what it's for; or having a panic attack in the corridor outside the embroidery club clubroom (yes, that's what it's called) before going in and announcing your resignation- not something that's completely necessary in a club, but the formality made it official.

And maybe listing long paragraphs of all her instances of failure and quitting was not entirely useful or productive, but it helped sort through her emotions.  
Kind of.  
Self-deprication counts as an emotion, right? Sure.

Still. This wasn't through any fault of her own, so she supposed she shouldn't be so hard on herself.  
Although, she didn't have to go down to the sewers to see Neska. That was kind of on her.  
And, she could've been more specific about her arm. Though, if her connection to the Empress had been severed, and she had been forced to 'Ascend'... well, who knows?

Maybe some omnipotent dude from a far-off land has it all planned out in a notebook somewhere.  
Or, not.  
That's ridiculous.

Her biggest mistake, though, was bringing Delnys along. It was _so dangerous_ ; she could've gotten hurt! She _did_ get hurt later! And now they haven't spoken in ages and she's probably mad at her!  
Of course, if Delnys _hadn't_ been there, Mira probably would have bled out in the sewers. Which would have been _less than stellar._  
Though, if she was dead, she wouldn't be feeling so horrible right now!

...Yikes.

That was a bad thought.

Bad Thoughts, Bad Snakes.  
Things are just kind of Bad, huh?

  
Whenever things got bad when she was little, Mira would go and sit with her mum as she worked on orders.  
She'd hold the yarn as she knitted, or crocheted, or sewed, or embroidered, and they would chat.  
When she got a bit older, she was allowed to help, and was even given some orders of her own to complete!

Mira loved sewing with her mum.  
She loved it a lot; sitting down and focusing on one task, going through repetitive motions, making something beautiful.  
It was a lot like playing music in that regard, but with more to physically show for it than just blistered fingers.  
Though, there's that, too.

Making things was always brilliant.  
Working on something, using your hands to create, and having a finished product at the end had always been a rewarding process for Mira.

Though her mum being a seamstress may have guided this enjoyment, she genuinely loved embroidery.  
She loved creating patterns and pictures with colourful thread, whether it be on patches or on clothes.  
Even the process of mending a tear was cathartic! You could fix something with just a few strands of thread! You could even make it more beautiful than before!

Now, though...  
She wasn't little anymore (young by Elf standards, certainly, but not a child), but the realisation that she could no longer bond with her mum over their shared interest was... hard to swallow.

She hadn't exactly... kept in contact with her family over the year. The letter from Artis would have been the first thing they heard from her in a _while_ , and it wasn't even _from her._  
The Autumn's End Festival was coming up and, though Mira was super excited, she was also kinda really dreading it.

  
Not to mention, all of her friends in the Embroidery Club, whom she'd presumably literally never see again.  
There weren't many of them- it was't an incredibly popular club- but they were still her _friends_ , and now they had no common interests that would let them remain that way.  
Shit! That sucked!

  
Joining clubs was a good way to make friends, because you shared at least one thing you could talk about. And people were less likely to tell you to shut up or be quiet, if you're talking about something they also like!

Hence why Mira was in so many clubs! They were safe spaces to make friends and talk about her interests, without being judged, because these were people who were also interested.  
No-one would say she talked too much if they liked what she was saying. No-one would say she was too passionate about dumb hobbies, if they were literally in a club for said hobby.

  
Another great way to make and maintain friends is gift-giving!  
You can show your gratitude and love for a person, by giving them something you think they'll like!  
And if the only way you know how to show your appreciation for someone is by constantly making them cool little things, that's even better, because your love language is something you can do all the time!

Until a snake bites off your dominant arm, and you can no longer make things, of course.

So, what could she do now, to show love for her friends?  
Playing music isn't the same as being able to physically give something tangible.

A small patch with an embroidered wizard's hat may not be worth much, but it was something. It was something she could give as a gift to Delnys on her birthday, to show that she was thinking about her.

People always say that handmade gifts are nicer than ones that are bought, because they show love and dedication.  
On one hand, Mira agrees with this, because it's so wonderful to put effort into something that you know will be appreciated.

On the other hand, though, wouldn't it be great to give someone a gift that was worth something? Wouldn't it be fantastic to go all out and buy a book, and cool stickers, and spell components, and a hair clip, and a rope, and a knife, and a flute, and a necklace, for people you just met? Instead of just a dumb figurine for the girl you're _trying_ to _impress_?

Mira had never had lots of money, and that was fine. She didn't need it, when she could make things.  
But you need money to buy a prosthetic; you can't just make yourself an arm. Unless you're Kurt, maybe, but Mira isn't Kurt. Obviously.

So she had to beg her parents- he not very wealthy parents, whom she hadn't spoken to all year- to spend a _lot_ of money, because _she_ did something dumb.  
Obviously they were willing to put gold towards it- they were her parents and they loved her. The challenging bit was convincing them that it's a good idea for it to be an arm primarily built for playing music, and literally nothing else.

And when you have a prosthetic arm that's meant for plucking strings and nothing else, you can't do the things you used to be able to do.  
Like embroider. Or write. Or lift weights, apparently.  
Not that the latter matters to literally anyone but stupid Murundeen.

If she wanted to be a musician, she had to be able to play music! And though their may be _some_ instruments you can play with just one arm, a lyre was definitely not one of them.  
And that was fine! Because Mira was _determined_ to be a musician.  
So nothing else mattered.  
It didn't matter that she couldn't lift dumb weights, and it didn't matter that she had learn to write with her left hand.  
What mattered was that Mira could play musician. Because Mira was going to be a musician.

Still, it hurt to admit, especially when it was something she loved so much, but she had to concede that she just couldn't do it anymore.  
It was for the best, if it meant that she was able to pursue her one-and-only dream.

Quitting the embroidery club was _hard_.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic goes in a loop-de-loop, it ends at the start, and it starts at the end of this fic goes in a loop-de-loop-
> 
> This is super disjointed because I basically wrote a bunch of thoughts, and then edited them into an order that has some semblance of narrative.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading!


End file.
